Before Your Eyes
by plentysaid
Summary: Your life flashes before your eyes when you die, or when you are moments away from death. I didn't see my life in front of me. First Saw fic: Adam... Possibly turning into Adam/Dr.Gordon. Rated M overall for possible angst/death/sex, etc...
1. Before Your Eyes

**A/N: This is my first Saw fanfiction - It will become a series as soon as I figure out what is going to happen to beloved Adam... Please let me know what you think and how I can change this story. This is probably my first shot at anything that is relatively 'horror-esque' too... **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Saw or the characters, I just like to play with them, in hope to help their dismal lives get somewhat better or worse.**

Your life flashes before your eyes when you die, or when you are moments away from death. I didn't see my life in front of me. All I saw was this room. My tomb.

Whenever I thought about dying, though, I never thought about it often, but when I did, it was definitely not chained to a sewage pipe in a bathroom with the stale stench of faeces and the bitter copper smell of blood. No, it was somewhere nice, with lots of chicks. Death by orgasm. Not like this. Not by dehydration, or going mad, or from starvation. Something painful: No.

I don't know how long I've been here, it could be a few days, weeks, hours or even minutes since Lawrence left. I needed him and he left me. He needed help too.

Silence. I couldn't bear. Not this quiet. If I tried to listen, what good would it get me? I'd get tired of listening or attempting to listen to the sound outside. There was nothing there. There never had been, but my mind was playing tricks on me. I definitely was going insane. I really was. I could start to hear things. Conversations. They were muffled, but they were there.

Help? More torture? Death? No, I don't want that. I've learned my lessons now, and I wish that I could scream that from the top of my lungs. I don't have any voice though. My throat is so dry, my lips chapped. I don't think there is enough saliva in my mouth to wet my lips, let alone to moisten my throat.

Creaking. I try to squint out at the door; I was definitely, most probably going mad. There were footsteps coming towards me. I know for a fact that no one would come and rescue me. No one would have noticed my disappearance, and I'm sure Lawrence couldn't walk back in to get me. I felt hands, they were definitely real, real and warm on my leg. The chain breaking through the deafening silence, piercing my eardrums as it rattled and dropped.

At that moment, all thoughts went out of my head.

This... I don't know if it was good or bad. Firm hands picked me up and carried me out. As the light hit me, I remember nothing but darkness.

The thing that flashed before my eyes then was nothing.


	2. Safety Next To You

There's a light at the end of the tunnel, or so they say. There is light here. There's light and pain, and I can't – I don't want this to be death. Or the end. Or whatever. The light, it's so bright, and I know my eyes aren't opened. I know. It burns, but there's no strength in my arms to rub my eyes – to assist with opening them. It hurts so bad, and now I know that I am in hell. I can feel it. This pain – it's worse than when I was stuck in that place.

"Adam," a soft touch, a recognisable touch and voice, but I can't bring myself to lean against it or pull away.

"Adam, it's Lawrence." Lawrence. I want my face to turn into a smile, but it doesn't. I know it doesn't. "Come on... Open your eyes for me." I can't. I wish I could for him. He helped me through those hours, and now... Now I can't do anything.

My eyes flicker, I can feel that, and all I can see is the searing light.

"That's it. Open them a little more for me," He whispers against me. I blink up at him, and all I can see is the blur, the colours of him, an outline.

Then his face.

"Hey," he whispers, a smile peaking against the corner of his lips. He looked healthy, and the bruise on his cheek was gone. "You're safe now," he brushes my cheek.

That moment, I felt the safest I had felt in a long time.


	3. The Game Isn't Over

Lawrence had explained it all to me. He had, as he said, managed to find help, he kept his promise. And the promise that we were both going to be okay. He kept his promise.

He said that he had been taken to the hospital, by someone that was coming to find us – a police officer called Detective Hoffman, and he had escorted Lawrence to the hospital, got him safe. He said there was nothing he could do for me. But he did.

"I can't tell you what happened to you, Adam." He looked down as he said that, and that scared me. For some reason, it petrified me. "I got a phone call, saying you were here, and I came as soon as I could."

He kept playing with my hair, his hands pulling and twisting at strands, I moved in closer, as close as I could without the pain filling me up again.

"They're treating you for dehydration and malnutrition. Your shoulder's healing up too." I nod, and for the first time since I opened my eyes, I looked at my shoulder, it was bandaged up, along with most of my chest. I frown and go to speak, but he stops me as though he's scared that I will break if I say a word.

"It's just to protect you, so you don't hurt yourself when you move. You'll be out of here soon, I promise." All I can do is nod. I want to ask him how he is, want to reach out and touch him. To feel that he is actually there, but no, I can't, no matter how much I want to. He's trying to get me better as fast as he can, but that doesn't mean that I don't want to be nearer him.

He strokes my cheek and tells me he's going to grab a coffee. I watch him go, feeling truly alone.

I sit up and look around, the room, it's white, apart from the fact the walls are painted and aren't tiled, it reminds of there. I shudder, I want Lawrence back now. I call for him weakly. My voice nothing more than a strain, like after the hours of screaming after Lawrence had left me. Like then. It hurt.

Fear rushes through me, and all I can do is wait, and hope he comes back quickly. I can feel the sweat rolling off my forehead, and all I can see is that man. The bald man in the middle of the room. And Zepp. The smell of his rotting corpse filling my senses. I gag, and that's all I can taste now. That smell.

There's movement behind me, I try to turn, but I can't. It wasn't Lawrence; oddly enough I knew his presence.

"_Hello Adam,"  
__  
_The game wasn't over.


	4. Second Chances

_A/N: I want to thank everyone for their lovely reviews of this story! I am trying to post a chapter a day, and they will progressively be getting longer. Thanks for reading! There will be some more Adam/Lawrence friendly chapters coming up later, I promise you! _

"I'm going to give you a second chance, Adam." He sat down next to me, and I know now that there was nothing more fearful than this. If my voice wasn't caught in my throat, I would have screamed for Lawrence. I reached for the emergency call button; he chuckled, letting out a spluttering cough as he did so.

"Adam, all I want is a word." For the first time, I looked up at him, moving my hand away from the button. He was old, he didn't look well. He reminded me of a painting I had seen, I shuddered. His eyes bored into me with... Interest? Amusement? I don't know what exactly he was looking at me like, but it scared me. Of course it fucking scared me. He locked me in a bathroom, chained me to a pipe, and left me to rot.

"As you know, you were... Salvaged from our tomb. You helped Dr. Gordon try to protect his family by faking your death... Twice. You also killed a man. Now, I'm going to ask you a simple question: Was that to save yourself? Or to save Dr. Gordon?"

Lawrence. I was doing it for Lawrence. I was lying there, and I wanted him safe. He had a family, and I didn't. I wanted to protect him.

"Your silence has given me the answer, Adam. I want to play a game with you, Adam. I'm giving you a second chance at life. A chance that I will never give you again if you lose this game. In saving Dr. Gordon's life and allowing him the chance to find you help, his wife took his daughter and left the area... Deeming it unsafe to be around him. Now, you are his only lifeline, Adam." The words rung through me like a fire alarm. Was it my fault that it had come down to that? "Another family pulled apart by you – whether you meant to do it or not. You still did. Now, the rules of the game are simple: turn your life around, and live. Do not stay in the shadows again. If you do, those shadows will pull you away, and this time: for good.

"The first step in this game: Giving up something you love. It's like an addict trying to clean up. Your dark room is to be destroyed, along with all the pictures of adulterous husbands you have. Though, there is one picture that you have taken that I now have, and am keeping. It was of a girl you took in the stairwell of your apartment. You put your trust in someone that you had met for two seconds. What was the reason behind that? Lust? Or interest in Amanda?" Amanda. I gasped when I realised just who she was – just who Lawrence had told me about when we was in the bathroom.

"You trust those you know will hurt you. You may not know that, but you have always done this. The question I want to ask you is this: Will Dr. Gordon hurt you? Are you, as you have been to a lot of people in your life, a pity subject?" The words hit me. They hurt. Lawrence wouldn't do that. From our time together, I know that. I know he'll protect me, and I trust him, I'll protect him too. I know I will.

"It's up to you now: Do you let Dr. Gordon – a man that you have invaded his privacy, and a man that now forgives you for that – look even deeper into your life, deeper than you have let anyone else go before. Will you trust him with your heart? Or will you find yourself hurting the person that is so desperately trying to fix you, lose you. Make your choice, Adam."

He got up and walked back out the way he came, I turned, trying to watch him, hissing as I hurt my shoulder. I thought about what he meant. No one had cared for me before, I never let them, he was right. I've never loved anyone. I've never let anyone love me. I can't let anyone love me. I'll only hurt them.

That's what is going to happen with Lawrence.

I don't want to hurt him.

The game has begun again.


	5. Behind Your Eyes, I See Something More

_A/N: There may be some slight spoilers for Saw 3-D coming up – I'm not too sure if you can call them spoilers exactly, but this is just a heads up in case anyone hasn't seen it, I don't want to accidentally ruin it for anyone. Sorry this is also short; I'm in the middle of Biology exams and graded experiments in Forensics. Enjoy. _

As Lawrence entered the room again, I felt more at ease. He was... Well, he was him, and now he was here, I knew he could protect me. I had never been dependent on anyone, but I know now that I am becoming dependent on him. When I was left alone in the bathroom, he was all I thought about. It was never about being saved, it was about if he had survived or not. Though, admittedly, I would have loved to have been saved.

I, as per usual, didn't fight hard enough to survive. To count. And I know that no one should have saved me. I probably didn't deserve saving. I really didn't.

"How are you?" I say quickly before he stops me. I watch his features carefully, I may be a terrible liar, but I can sure sniff one out. He nods slowly, sitting on the side of my bed, his hand returning back to my cheek, his touch is so soft, his hands still surprise me as to how soft they were. His bloody hand on my cheek, that was soft too. He rubs his thumb over my cheek.

"I'm just concerned about you." He's hiding something, I don't know what, but there's something behind his eyes, a secret or a lie. _Don't lie to me, Adam! _ Those words – the words he said to me in the bathroom. Now he's lying to me.

"When you're well enough, I'll take care of you at home." He smiles, and it makes me forget any preconceptions about him lying once more. I nod weakly, my hand reaches for his slowly. I bite my lip and wait for what I expect – for him to pull away, but he doesn't. Instead he takes my hand, his fingers dancing over my skin, he links our fingers and I feel the smile touch my lips.

"I like this," I whisper so quietly I can barely hear my own voice, his thumb brushes my cheek once more and his lips press against my other cheek.

"So do I," he breathes against my skin, it feels good.


	6. New Lessons

I had been in there for over a week before I was discharged. Lawrence now had a new apartment which had the most amazing view ever. He had been with me everyday – most of the day, except when he said he needed to work. I didn't know that he was back at work, but he would come back after a few hours and sit with me, hold my hand and promise that everything will be okay.

Lawrence made everything feel okay – made it seem that being in Jigsaw's trap was just one terrible nightmare. The sort of nightmare though that you cannot wake up from. And this I can't.

There are nights when I need Lawrence right beside me, and there are nights, where he does sit beside me, he lets me curl around him, he lets me hold his shirt and fall asleep on his chest, but there are nights where he's cold, heartless.

Like today.

He had gone to work, I had stayed in, resting, looking on the internet for jobs, just local part time work. I had no experience other than photography, and I knew I had to give that up as a job. It was part of _his_ requests. I had my camera with me. It was something that Lawrence had picked up from my apartment along with some of my clothes. He had set them up in the other room, my room, supposedly. It was too quiet, it was horrible.

I managed to keep myself busy. Hell, I even tidied up the apartment. When he came home, when Lawrence walked through the door, everything changed. As soon as the keys rattled in the door, I could feel his foul mood. He threw his jacket over the armchair and all but glared at me; he made himself a coffee and walked to his room without a word to me. The door locked and a loud bang made me jump, I sat in my room, resting against the wall, trying to listen through the wall, to see what he was doing. He was on talking, on the phone most likely, I couldn't hear what he was saying, this was wrong. I shouldn't be listening, I know I shouldn't.

What happened next, I wasn't sure of. I must have fallen asleep because Lawrence was shaking me, anger evident in his eyes; he threw a hoodie at me. It was baggy; I pulled it on without saying a word to him, too scared to voice anything.

"You're going to start your new lessons now, Adam."


	7. Games

Awkward is the only way that I can describe the car journey. Lawrence didn't say a word to me. He had this psychotic look in his eye as he drove determined through the night. His eyes were filled with a look that I recognised, a look I didn't want to see. One from the bathroom. I shudder when I think of the look in his eyes. He had the gun pointing at me, his hands shaking as he waved it about. _'You have to die.' _ The look he gave me before he shot me in the shoulder. I want to say something to him, but I can't. Physically, my brain won't let me talk.

Lawrence pulled up at a desolate warehouse; it looked like it hasn't been used in years. No lights were on around it. Lawrence turned the engine off and looked at me.

"It's time, Adam."

"What for?" He gets out of the car without another door, I follow him slowly. "Lawrence, please! Talk to me. Why are we here?" He ignored me, walking at a steady pace, his hands buried deep in his pockets. I sighed, running a hand through my hair.

"Goddamn it, Lawrence!" I shout, I'd never seen him move so quickly after that, he was by my side, his hand holding my shoulders tightly, squeezing roughly, I gulped.

"Listen to me, Adam. Shut up, do as you're told. You survived; it doesn't mean you are free from this. It's time for you to learn how to help people instead of tearing their lives apart!" He spat at me, dragging me along, quicker. I was tripping over my heels as he pulled me.

The door to the warehouse opened, I felt the sweat slowly beginning to fall off my forehead as I saw him standing there.

Was this another game?


	8. It Starts

Violently, Lawrence shoved me towards the old man – to Jigsaw – his eyes were glazed with pain, sadness, the hope of giving up.

"Not many people survive to meet me a third time, Adam." He muttered to me, a spluttering cough escaped his mouth. He was weak, ill, something wasn't right. I wanted to look back at Lawrence, but I was scared of what he would do if I did. I can still feel where his hand had pushed me.

"The people that do survive and that never see me again – I have no use for. But you, Adam. Like Dr. Gordon there, I need you. You have a talent that both me and Dr. Gordon have witnessed – you and your camera are one. You're good at not being seen – you have an essence of becoming invisible, the flash on your camera, your ghost. I need that." He moves closer to me, I try to move back, try to run, but Lawrence is blocking me. He's standing still, as though he were a soldier waiting for a command from his commanding officer, he holds my hips and urges me to look forward at him. The thumb on his right hand drawing circles on my back, I close my eyes, confused – was he trying to comfort me? I sigh and look up at the man in front of me.

"I can help you, Adam. Once more, I can help you." I look down; I don't know what would happen if I didn't listen to him, I nodded slowly, looking down at my feet. Lawrence's hand becoming more soothing against my back, "All I want from you is pictures. Dr. Gordon will tell you who and you will take the pictures – as though you were following a cheating husband – you'll hand the pictures to Dr. Gordon and hope you don't fail me, Adam." I gulp and nod, I dread to think what he would do to me if I refused. He moves closer again, his hands place on my shoulders and makes me look up at him, not forcing. He smiles a small smile that on anyone else would have been kind – on his face, it's sinister. Lawrence left my side, I felt exposed, he walked into the warehouse slowly, I watched him go, I needed him by my side.

"Jill Tuck." He utters and looks at me, handing me a battered picture of a beautiful woman. I frown at the picture, half of it is torn. "There will be others that you must... Follow, but I want to know she is safe." Safe. This is from the man that gets off torturing people – why would he want someone safe? I nod, he gives me her details and I take the photo. "This shall be the only person you contact me about. The others go straight to Dr. Gordon; he is not to know about this." I nod again and pocket the photo. He coughs a deathly cough and holds onto me. I look around and sit him on a pile of pipes, he's ill. I wonder if that's the reason he does this. He tells people to be grateful for their lives and he's losing his. I shake the thought off and keep him steady. He looks surprised that I do, as though I would have let him keel over.

He may have almost let me die, but I wasn't as heartless as to watch him get hurt.


	9. Over Dinner

That night, Lawrence takes me out for dinner. It's nothing special – just the local Chinese. He apologised for how he had been behaving of late; he wanted to make it up to me. He spoke about what he did for Jigsaw – John – and how he needed – begged – for him to release me, though he couldn't tell me. I could be some use to them both. He pulled out pictures that he had been taking, and to my dismay – though I wouldn't let him know – his photography skills were terrible. I wonder why me. Why would he let me go? Why was I so important to Lawrence? The hours we spent together were probably nothing to him. Not like they were to me.

Lawrence was my first true friend which sounds crazy if I were to say it out loud, he was trying to kill me. He shot me to try and save his wife and child – he would have fed me poisonous blood if he had had the chance to. Now we are sitting eating Chinese food in the back of a restaurant under candlelight as though nothing like that had happened.

To me, this felt more than two guys sharing a meal and talk about their fucked up lives. Talking about their prey.

To me, this felt more intimate.

Like a date.


	10. Fears

For the most part of the evening, we had been sat in utter silence. It would have been comfortable; too, you can tell by the way he wants to speak to me, and I, him. Though, after talking about our… Prey, as it had come across in my mind, I had felt the need to not be able to talk – or think – of anything more. I wondered if Lawrence himself had any other… Special requests from John. If he had, would he tell me? Should I tell him of what I was supposed to be doing for this… Serial killer? Was he a serial killer? That thought crossed my mind often. Was what Mr. Kramer – the man that people were petrified of, and had nightmares of – really a serial killer?

I wasn't too sure of the term serial killer; I just know they killed a lot of people in their time, always following the same pattern. John was teaching people to, as he said, cherish their lives.

Lawrence paid for the meal, and we went on our way, walking aimlessly, he was close to me. So close I could smell him. He was what I thought of as safety, and even though, every time I sleep in his arms I can still smell the blood that he was covered in – that I was covered in. I realised then that I had never actually asked Lawrence about what happened after he escaped – not directly, but he could walk. He had been able to walk with nothing more than a mere limp since I was rescued… I didn't ask him about it, though, I moved closer to him as we walked through darkened alleyways where the darkness was reaching out to take me.

A sound made me grab hold of him, his arm pulled me closer, he held me to his chest and quickened our pace, telling me it was okay, though something in his voice was saying it wasn't. In my mind, I hoped that it was just a cat, but Lawrence seemed adamant that it was something more. He dragged me through to the end where the exit came out to more darkness. Woods where everything was somewhat louder, echoed around you, his hands were rubbing against my hips softly, an uncertain look upon his eyes that I could just make out in the dark.

"This way," he whispered and took my hand as he forced me to follow him. I held onto him tightly, feeling my breath getting louder, panicky. The same way it had when Jigsaw had laughed menacingly and closed the cold warehouse door against me with a laugh.

"Lawrence, we need to go back." I try to drag his hand, but he's strong. Stronger than I am. He pulls me closer.

"We'll be out of here soon." I try to not think of my surroundings, how dark it is, the sounds that are coming from everywhere and nowhere. He holds me to his chest, his arms locked around me as he moves, whispering, "I've got you," in my ear.

That moment, I knew he did.


	11. Confusion

We come out to an embankment; the lake and the moon coinciding making the darkness disappear into nothingness – into light. He sits me down, telling me that it is okay: that we're safe. He doesn't do anything more, just crouches in front of me, and for a moment, I wonder why he brought me here. His hand runs against my cheek softly, I shiver and watch him intently, a thousand thoughts are running through my mind, a thousand, confused thoughts that do nothing but melt my head and leave me in a pit of despair.

Why? What I ask myself again. He's just there, still staring at me. Caring. Why drag me through what I think of as hell for him to stare at me? Staring differently than he has before – there's something that I can't quite see through his eyes. It scared me, for reasons that I do not know.

He sat next to me, staring out at the night sky and sighed, his hands linked together, resting on his stomach. He looked content; he looked up at me slowly, the stars reflecting in the blue orbs. "What do you feel at the moment, Adam?"

"Cold," I utter even though I don't feel the cold against my skin, I didn't know what I felt. Lawrence and the surroundings confused me. I didn't know what I was supposed to be doing here. Was this some part of John's plan? Or did Lawrence really want me around – just us, far enough away from the norm of our lives.

Lawrence's jacket is wrapped around me, his hands rubbing against my arms softly, a spark hit me when he touched me – it had been there before, I'm sure, but never this strong. I pull away, throw his jacket down and stand. He looks at me, confused.

"Adam? What..." he whispers, pulling me towards him, his hands on my shoulders, he looks straight at me, that concerned and caring look that I had grown so fond of, his hands stroked against my cheek softly, I felt like I couldn't breathe with him like this. His hands were guiding my head towards his, his eyes – like mine – were glued to my lips. I gasp, struggling against him, this felt so wrong to be this close to him. I didn't want this, neither did he. His hands were too strong for me to struggle against, he looked at me slowly, telling me to calm down, and I tried to.

"Let me go, please," I whisper against him, he sighs, letting me go slowly, he wrapped his arms around himself slowly, watching me carefully, his eyes were painfully boring into me, and I wished he would stop.

Confusion wasn't what I wanted to feel anymore. Every time I stared at his handsome face, I wanted to jump his bones, wanted to feel his skin against me, needed him to hold me still even when I didn't have the nightmares. I needed him.

I had never liked a guy before. Lawrence... Confuses me.

"Adam?"

"I want to go home," I whisper against him. He sighs, walking back the way we came.

For the first time since the bathroom, I felt like I needed a cigarette.

_I know these aren't very long, and I promise after this chapter the rest of them are going to be much longer. This one was just a filler, though, the next chapter there will be some more Adam/John interaction and some more Adam/Lawrence angst... _

_Thank you for sticking with me whilst I am writing this. You guys are awesome. _


	12. Work

As soon as I opened the door, I locked myself in the bedroom and as soon as the lock was bolted, Lawrence tried to get in, tried to get me to come out. He won, after a few minutes, the room got too claustrophobic and all the bad memories came seeping back, He sighed, looking at me, I could feel the sweat against my brow, he rubbed my cheek softly and led me into the living area.

"If we are going to live together, you need to talk to me," he whispers.

"No," I tell him, I want to walk away, move towards the door, find a seedy bar and hope to hell that I can find something – someone – to let me forget what on earth is going through my mind.

"Please, Adam. We need to figure out what is going on in that little head of yours." No I didn't. Lawrence wouldn't understand, and I didn't want him to. Instead of talking to him, I played with the couch cushions instead of having to look at him. The only time that speaking with Lawrence has ever been this awkward was when we were in the bathroom and he was questioning me. I could feel his questioning eyes against me, he moved closer to me, his arm wrapping around my shoulders. What I wouldn't give to lean back against him, to have him hold me, but I couldn't allow it.

For a moment, just one, I allowed him to pull me against his chest, to have my head on his shoulder and feel his arm around my chest, his breath against my ear. I sigh, closing my eyes for a moment, leaning back against him and wanting nothing more to curl up against him.

"I'm scared," I whisper against him, he holds me tighter, looking at me, concerned.

"About what?"

"You," I pull away, struggling to keep my head clear against him. I grab my camera and my jacket, running out of the apartment, not ever wanting to turn back.

The apartment block that John had given me the address for, I find, scouring the place quickly before making my way inside and to the number that he told me to. I listen against the door, there's no one in, so I wait. I move myself into the fire escape, play with my hands and look down. Hoping that I could somehow make everything okay, pretending that I didn't have this screaming in my gut telling me that I... Liked him. He... No, I couldn't.

I got so caught up in my thoughts that I almost missed her walking into her apartment – tears in her eyes - I took a photo, a deep breath, hiding myself from view as she turned around, looking where the flash had come from. She was more beautiful than the picture that was handed to me. I sigh and climb back through when I hear that she has gone inside, I rush out of the apartment building, finding myself heading towards the warehouses where I know John would be. I let myself in. Fear rippling through me – why was I here? Why was I doing this for him? Could he really put me back where I belonged if I refused him? I didn't want to find out.

John was sat on a wooden stall, he was hooked up to what I assume was an IV for something. Why was he so sick? Cautiously I move over to him, the fear is rippling through me as I move towards him quicker and quicker I want to retreat, but he has seen me.

"Hello, Adam." He coughs out, his hands busy wielding something together – another trap. No, it's his doll. The same bastard thing that was in my apartment, but he's putting something inside it.

"I went to Jill Tuck's apartment. I need more information about her if you want me to follow her and make sure she is safe." He smiles up at me, you couldn't call something as evil as that a smile, but that's what I had to deem it as. He smiled and handed me a leaflet for a health clinic. _Cherish Your Life, _the slogan written in block capitals on the front.

"This is where she works. You're a smart boy, Adam. You've been doing this for a very long time, I'm sure this is all you need to keep track of her." The question I wanted to ask was stuck in my throat: why?

Why did he want me to watch her and make sure she was safe? As if he knew, he pulled out another picture of him when he was much younger and of Jill – they looked so in love. "I care and love about her, Adam. I always will and I guaranteed her safety when I started living this life." I nod softly, and yet that question still lingered: why was he doing this? That was something that I would have to ask Lawrence if I ever got the courage up, that was.

"If I asked another thing of you, Adam, would you do it?" I couldn't talk back to him or say yes, I stood still, staring at the things around me that were making me on edge. There were so many weapons that he could use to kill me. So many things that I don't want to happen to me, but I fear will.

"What if I told you that I asked you to watch Dr. Gordon? Would you do it?" I dropped my hands to my side, took a step back, waiting for him to say something more – anything. I couldn't do that to Lawrence; not again.

"It seems you have answered my question already, Adam. You and Dr. Gordon have formed a bond, it's obvious to anyone, but are you prepared to stop being in the shadows and actually face up to the fact that you need Dr Gordon more than what he knows?" No, no I wasn't ready. Yet, I felt like this was just going to be another test where if I didn't tell him – he'd take my lifeline away.

"I want you to think very carefully about everything I have said to you this evening, Adam. Protection is the key." He looked back down at his work, as if I had just disappeared and the conversation hadn't happened.


End file.
